


Lead Us Not Into Temptation

by gyungmi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Choking, Exorcist Seungmin, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Roman Catholicism, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Crush, corruption kink if you squint, incubus chan, lots of NorCal references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26854636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyungmi/pseuds/gyungmi
Summary: A string of murders has been plaguing the Bay Area, but Seungmin doubts that this is the doing of a serial killer. Seungmin is an exorcist-in-training, and he knows that this is the work of a demon with a large sexual appetite.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin, Hwang Hyunjin & Kim Seungmin, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Seo Changbin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	Lead Us Not Into Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> Please check the tags before reading!  
> Edit: There are 1-2 scenes including sexual contact between two characters that some might be uncomfortable reading. I’ve gone ahead and added a tag for non-con elements as a precaution.  
> This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.  
> None of the characters in this story are reflections of the members in real life.
> 
> Enjoy!

The nightmares started off the same every time: with Seungmin having sex.

The nightmares started off feeling amazing. 

Warm. Sticky. Gooey. Hot. 

And then burning. 

The feel-good tightness became suffocating, and the softness began to swallow him whole. What used to be sweet and sensual turned decayed. It wasn’t sex anymore, but rather a full-body consumption that left Seungmin dazed. Even once it became painful, resisting the temptation was hard when his weary spirit was combating the exhaustion and ache. He always ended up giving in to the softness, letting it suck him in, swallow him, digest him. It was an inception that left Seungmin spiraling further into the psychedelic nightmare.

Seungmin’s 7:30AM alarm is what saves him from being devoured by his dreams.

His body isn’t deforming. The walls aren’t screaming in pleasure. His bed is warm, and the morning sunlight is kissing his cheeks. As Seungmin’s body slowly wakes up, the anxieties from his nightmare are shoved further into the recesses of his mind until he’s not even sure if they existed.

He’s not some perversion of a martyr. He’s just himself. 

Reality finally comes knocking, and Seungmin decides to check his email and socials. One of his most recent notifications was an advisory email sent by the university earlier that morning. Seungmin swiped right on the notification and skimmed.

_Dear SFU Community,_

_Last night, SFU was notified that a student was attacked while attending Temple Nightclub on Howard St. The San Francisco Police Department is investigating the incident._

_We advise all students and faculty to take extra precautions to ensure their safety at this time._

_Please report any suspicious activity in and around campus immediately to the SFU Department of Public Safety. Suspicious activity is any action or behavior that suggests a crime has been committed or is about to be committed. For emergencies, call 911._

The remainder of the email provided a series of phone numbers and websites that all students were encouraged to check out, though Seungmin could not have been any less interested. While he replied to his Snapchat streaks, Minho was on his own side of the room jumping up and down to tug his jeans up past his thighs.

“Are all those squats finally paying off?” Seungmin teases from the comfort of his bed, though his joking is interrupted when his phone slips out of his hands and smacks him in the face. Seungmin’s karma has always been swift, and today it’s painful, too.

“Shut up,” Minho laughs and turns to check himself out in the full-length mirror propped by their bedroom door. He does a little spin and stares at his silhouette before a satisfied grin stretches across his face, “Well… maybe. Did you check your student email?”.

“Yeah. Shit’s crazy.” Seungmin was scrolling through Instagram now. A cute girl he was project partners with in Rhetoric 110, Sana, was posed at Fisherman’s Wharf with the happiest looking labrador retriever he had ever seen. 

“Shit’s _annoying_. I really wanted to go out this weekend.”

A photoset of Hyunjin posing by the Salesforce tower appears next. In the first picture, he’s got his hands pocketed in his Ted Baker blazer with a closed-mouth smile. In the second, he’s throwing up twin peace signs in typical cutesy Hyunjin fashion. Seungmin double-taps the post to be cordial, or so he tells himself.

_Congrats on the internship!_ he comments.

“People are dying, Minho.”

“But I’m turning 21! All I’m saying is that it isn’t fair.” Seungmin doesn’t want to subject himself to witnessing Minho’s pouting face, so he taps on Hyunjin’s profile photo and begins scrolling through his feed. There’s Hyunjin dressed in board shorts at the Conservatory of Flowers, Hyunjin seated in front of a bowl of cioppino at the Fog Harbor Fish House, Hyunjin wearing sunglasses and grinning in front of the Golden Gate Bridge at Baker Beach… a customary Bay Area photo, of course. Seungmin would double-tap it if it wasn’t posted four whole months ago.

Maybe he can find another photo of him in that blazer. 

“I’ll have to completely scrap my plans. The groupchat is a mess. You know, I didn’t tell you this, but someone from The Grand emailed me and said they’re cancelling my reservation. They’re issuing me a refund,” Minho was still talking, but Seungmin was only partially listening. It was difficult to focus on a roommate’s ranting when Hyunjin looked so stunning at Twin Peaks back in May.

“We could just have a night in. It doesn’t have to be a huge fiesta,” Seungmin finally suggests. He had muted Minho’s birthday groupchat long ago, mainly because he didn’t know a single person in it, but now he’s feeling a little guilty. 

Minho worked hard and studied harder. He deserved to have a good birthday.

“We could order in, play some games, drink some moscato. It could be fun.”

“I’m not taking advice from someone whose idea of a good time is Mario Party and Franzia. Maybe for a random Saturday night, but this is my birthday! An important one!” Minho frowns in frustration and perches himself in his desk chair. 

“I wanna go crazy. Do shots. And go out. And be loud! We can’t do that here,” which was true. Their neighbors had just brought home a newborn who was very fussy and, apparently, very hard to put down to sleep. The two of them couldn’t even watch an episode of _Grey’s Anatomy_ without their neighbor pounding at their shared wall, begging for them to lower the volume.

“We’ll figure something out.” Seungmin’s never been too good at comforting others, but Minho seems to appreciate the sentiment anyway. “You’re gonna be late.”

Minho swivels back and forth in his chair and his lips curl into an attractive grin, “Nuh-uh. My 8AM got cancelled.”

“Then where are you headed?”

Minho was suddenly all smiles and heart eyes. “A date!”

“This early?”

“Why? Is that weird?”

“Not weird. But unusual.”

“We’re meeting up at Caffe Triesco, it’s a vintage-y place in Little Italy. I looked at pictures of it on Yelp, it’s so… quaint!”

“ _Quaint_ ,” Seungmin slowly repeats to himself, and Minho is nodding from across the bedroom. “Bring me back something?”

“If they have chocolate croissants, I’ll get you one,” Minho agrees, and then asks, “Should I cuff my jeans?”

“What kind of message do you want to send?”

“I’m fun-loving and emotionally available.”

Seungmin actually laughs at that. 

“Cuff them.”

...

Seungmin was out of breath. 

He climbed the same hill every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to get to his Business Analytics class, but it never got any easier. Seungmin buried his face into the puffed collar of his jacket, pretending that he wasn’t so winded. He thought that maybe, sometime next week, he should start taking advantage of his student pass to the gym. He felt so out of shape.

It was another day of fog, as expected. He could look directly at the sun without its brightness hurting his eyes.

Seungmin didn’t mind the overcast. He preferred days like this.

It was 9:15AM, and Seungmin was pretending to pay attention as Hyunjin led their project group’s in-class pow-wow. 

“I think you should add a slide to identify some of the challenges with entrepreneurship.” 

Felix drags his hands down his face, probably the reason behind the acne spotting across his cheeks, and agrees. “Okay,” he nods, and looks at Hyunjin with tired eyes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Seungmin made sure to review his slides late last night before class this morning. He had seen the “FL” icon from Felix’s school email account pop up on their shared Google Slides presentation around 1AM, ever the procrastinator. Felix had been working on his section into the early hours of the morning, but Hyunjin still wanted more.

Hyunjin wanted perfection because he _was_ perfection. Seungmin occasionally found himself checking up on Hyunjin’s brag-worthy LinkedIn profile in his free time, teasing himself. It was a little unfair that his younger sister was into photography and could provide him with a damn near professional headshot to set as his profile photo. 

Seungmin considered swallowing his pride and getting into contact with Yeji for a headshot soon. As it currently stood, Seungmin’s best attempt at selecting a profile photo was one of him dressed properly in a boring white button-up from Banana Republic in an old debate team photo. He had to crop out his teammates and zoom in on himself, which left a lot to be desired in terms of clarity and quality, but he looked prim and professional and that’s all he really cared about.

“Who did the Management section of the powerpoint?” Hyunjin was lazily stroking his index and middle fingers across the trackpad of his Macbook. Seungmin fixated on them while he waited for someone to speak up.

“I did.” Chris didn’t even bother looking up from his screen when he spoke, instead deciding that playing with the rings on his crooked fingers was more interesting than eye contact.

Chris had managed to land himself another internship over summer break, this time at GoodRx as a product management intern, and his ego has still yet to recover. Apparently, his parents lived in southern California and were happy to fund their son’s internship-turned-vacation extravaganza, which included his bidaily trips to Peet’s Coffee and shopping splurges at 3rd Street Promenade. Needless to say, Chris’ ceaseless flow of oceanside selfies in Santa Monica overwhelmed Seungmin’s Instagram feed. He convinced himself that blocking Chris’ account for a few days was fueled by very little envy. There wasn’t much to be envious of anyway. Chris’ LinkedIn profile sucked.

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“There’s typos,” Hyunjin huffs, and it comes out sounding a little whiny. “And you put the shatter transition on all your slides. Are you in 4th grade?”

“All the information I put in there is correct, so I’ll fix it later,” Chris sighs, and then says under his breath, “since it bothers you so much.”

“Yeah. It does bother me, actually. It’s not professional.” Hyunjin has a bad habit of biting and licking his lips when he’s frustrated. Seungmin thinks that he’s probably eaten off all of the cherry chapstick on his lips by this point and plays with the thought of how he reapplies it.

“Talk to me about professional when there isn’t a coffee stain on your collar.”

Hyunjin visibly bristles at that. Seungmin thinks that he looks like a bird ruffling his feathers.

“Just fix your slides,” Hyunjin sounded unbothered, but he still reaches behind him to pull on the fleece jacket he had hung off of his chair. The rest of the project group members did their best to ignore the tension, keeping their eyes glued to their laptop screens and mindlessly clicking through the powerpoint.

The rest of class is boring. Hyunjin assigns everyone in their group a little bit of work, and they agree to meet up together on Friday to do a run-through of their presentation. The professor only lectures for a half hour before it hits 10:15 and everyone starts their descent back down the hill. Seungmin is glad that he won’t have to be back until Friday.

“Fuck Chris.” Hyunjin is kind of dragging Seungmin across campus, not that he minds. Hyunjin is kind of cute when he’s angry. Seungmin thinks that all versions of Hyunjin are lovely, even the angry and upset ones.

“It’s not even coffee. It’s ruby rooibos.”

“I have a stain stick in my bag, if you wanna clean up a little.”

“Thanks,” Hyunjin sighs, but he still honors Seungmin’s offer with a flash of beautiful, straight teeth. “Do you wanna grab something for lunch with me? I think they’re serving short rib at the caf today, and I’m over in meal points for this semester. I can treat you!”

Seungmin wanted to accept Hyunjin’s invitation so badly. It would be stupid of him not to pounce on free short rib _and_ time alone with Hyunjin, even if he was sure they would end up discussing their classwork the entire time. Seungmin supposed that maybe he _is_ stupid, because he shakes his head and refuses anyway.

“I can’t today,” he frowns, making sure that Hyunjin knows he’s truly sorry, “I have a thing. At my church.”

“Oh! You’re religious?”

Seungmin nods, “My family is super orthodox. I grew up in the church, so it felt weird to stop attending once I moved here for college.”

Hyunjin purposefully brings his cherry-chapsticked lips into a handsome smile, just like he always does when he’s trying to draw information out of someone. “Moved here from where?”

Seungmin could be nothing but truthful when Hyunjin looked at him like that, “Cincinnati, actually. You know, Midwest. There’s a decent amount of religious folks out there. My roommate is from Cincinnati too.”

“Minho?” Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle with something like adoration, “the cute guy in ACM?”

Seungmin tricks himself into believing the burn he feels in his chest isn’t jealousy.

“You know him?”

“I have a friend in ACM, so I wouldn’t say I know him. I just know _of_ him. We follow each other on Insta,” Hyunjin says. “It’s his birthday?”

“This weekend, yeah. We planned on going to The Grand, but…” Seungmin shrugs his shoulders and Hyunjin seemed to understand well enough, “you know. Everything’s closing.”

They’ve finished their descent now. The MUNI bus stop at the bottom of the hill is empty, so Hyunjin leans against it comfortably.

“I know a club that’s still open!” he sings, and that immediately grabs at Seungmin’s attention. Hyunjin seemed to notice, because he stops picking at one of the OBEY stickers plastered onto the bus route map and focuses entirely on Seungmin.

“But I’ll only tell you if I get an invitation.”

The snapshot of Hyunjin, decorated in body glitter and sweating beneath strobe lights, carved itself into Seungmin’s brain. He could say no to getting lunch with Hyunjin, and he could say no to short rib, but he couldn't say no to this. Seungmin is easy to convince.

“I’m sure Minho wouldn’t mind me bringing you as a plus one. Name the place.”

Hyunjin, seemingly satisfied with the intrigue he’s instilled, finally says, “City Nights.”

“On Harrison? _They’re open_?”

“They will be until the city mandates a curfew. So I’ll see you there?”

Hyunjin would look so good in his clubwear. He’d look ethereal dancing beneath those neon lights in a club. An actual venue. Minho would be so excited. They could finally plan a night out that would be worthwhile, a night Minho undoubtedly deserved.

For Minho.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you there!”

… 

Seungmin’s face was painted in red sunshine, and the back of his neck shone bright blue. His hands glowed softly, one green and one yellow, as he brought his palms together in prayer. The cathedral’s stained glass windows filtered kaleidoscoping sunlight into the building, submerging him in a colorful glow.

He had come to speak to the bishop. He needed guidance.

His knuckles brush against the office door in a polite knock, “Am I okay to enter?”

“Is that you, Seungmin?” comes a voice from inside. “Please come in!”

It was strange to see the bishop in casualwear. Seungmin had almost exclusively seen him in his cassock and mozzetta, but today he’s wearing a button-up and slacks. He pulls Seungmin into an embrace easily, one where he wraps his arms securely around him and squeezes tight. It feels safe here.

“How are you?” he says while holding Seungmin close, “Is school going well? And your training?”

“That’s actually why I came to see you.” Seungmin pulls himself from the hug and looks down at his feet. “I feel so lost.”

The bishop guides him over to sit in one of the leather armchairs near an ornamental cross. “Lost in doubt?”

“Lost in temptation,” Seungmin admits, “I’m having those dreams again.”

They had this discussion often. Seungmin always came to the church when things became difficult for him, but the bishop had let him know that prayer wasn’t always enough. He had to be proactive.

“You’re stronger than your fears,” he’s reassured, “I don’t want for this to become something that impedes the progress of your training. I’ll be praying for you, as always.”

“Thank you,” Seungmin bows his head in gratitude, always thankful.

This was something he had been predestined to do. He had been ordained to offer the sacraments, just as his father was. Seungmin remembers being in the church at nine years old and being told that the Lord had chosen him as a vessel. It was the call to action that had launched him into a lifetime of devout clerical study and prayer.

Seungmin’s family took his liturgical education very seriously. He would oftentimes find himself secluded at the library’s basement level, where few students ventured, studying the Roman Ritual with his father on speaker. His mind was like a machine, constantly cycling through various psalms and gospel readings and prayers.

It took several months for him to work through The Rites and the Book of Blessings. Seungmin had become impressively well-versed in the different blessings and sacramentals there were to learn, but there was still one ritual book he had yet to study, the Rite of Exorcism. 

“It’s nothing like in the movies,” Seungmin’s father had told him early into his mentorship, “Sometimes it can take months, or even years to completely exorcise a demon. They’re manipulative and deceptive. You have to be extremely secure in your faith to attempt an exorcism.”

Despite the warning, Seungmin still threw himself into his studies of _Exorcisms and Certain Supplications_. 

He had only just begun his practice with the bishop a few months ago.

“Seungmin, before you go,” the bishop stops him from leaving by placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve heard of what’s going on in the city, haven’t you?”

Seungmin nods slowly.

“Be careful.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“I’m serious. There’s a demonic evil lurking out there,” the bishop tells him, “keep studying, and stay out of trouble. May the Lord be with you.”

Seungmin gives the bishop one last hug before leaving. “And with your spirit.”

The sun is sitting lower in the sky now, and the light coming through the stained glass isn’t as vibrant as it used to be. If this was a movie, Seungmin thinks that he’d be able to hear the angels singing right about now. But as he had been told, life was nothing like the movies, so he leaves the cathedral blanketed in silence. The old wood creaks beneath his feet and the angels are only singing in his head.

… 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this.” Minho may be talking towards his reflection in the mirror, but Seungmin knows the words are directed towards him. Minho’s eyes are owlishly wide as he paints a faux beauty mark beneath his left eye with liquid eyeliner.

“We’re going to Shitty Nights on my birthday.”

“I thought you wanted to go to a club!”

“You’ve clearly never been to Shitty Nights,” Minho laughs to himself, “but I guess it’s better than nothing.”

Their linoleum countertops were transformed into displays for alcohol: Malibu, Pink Whitney, half a handle of raspberry New Amsterdam that Minho had been storing in the back of their freezer. The bottle of Fireball looked misplaced amongst the array of fruity drinks that Minho preferred.

“Can I put some music on?” Minho was already scrolling through the channels on their Smart TV to find Spotify. 

“Just not too loud,” Seungmin peeked at the time displayed on their microwave. It was 9:30PM. “It’s about to be quiet hours.”

Minho’s friends arrive all at once, and Seungmin enjoys meeting them all. There’s Ryujin from ACM, Jisung from his Computer Programming class, Jeongin from Lab…

“Seungmin! I need you to meet someone!” Minho has become more and more boisterous with the more drinks he takes down. ”This is Changbin! We went on that date earlier this week!”

Changbin, as good-looking and well-dressed as he is tonight, looks nothing like the cutesy type that Minho usually goes for. Changbin is brawny. A total jock. It's a bit of a shock at first, but Seungmin snaps himself out of it quickly enough to shake Changbin’s hand.

“Mr. Caffe Triesco?”

“Is that how you know me?” Changbin smiles. He’s unexpectedly soft-spoken.

“Well, now I know you by your actual name. It’s really nice to meet you! Did you bring those for everyone?” Seungmin points to the six pack of Smirnoff Ices that Changbin is holding in the hand that isn’t resting on Minho’s waist.

“It’s just a special treat for the birthday boy.”

The two of them wander off, and Seungmin decides to make himself comfortable on the couch in the meantime. Everyone is here except for the one person Seungmin is the most eager to see. With nothing better to do, he sends them a text.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _Are u gonna pregame with us?_

Seungmin’s fingers paused when he looked over at the scene in the kitchen. Minho was on his knees, trapped in the middle of a circle of people while Changbin emptied an entire bottle of Smirnoff Ice into his mouth. Minho never really had any talent when it came to chugging, and Seungmin was certain that he was doing more drowning than drinking at the moment.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _Birthday boy is getting iced_

“Fuuuck!” comes Minho’s chirping voice from across the room, “Let’s do shots! Ryunjin— _Ryujin, let’s do shots!_ ”

Changbin is checking Minho’s wrist then, counting up the Sharpie tally marks drawn there. Seungmin’s phone vibrates in his hands by the time Ryujin is brewing a potion of Sprite and New Amsterdam in Minho’s solo cup.

**_Hyunjin H:_ ** _Sorry, I can’t! I’m all the way in Berkeley..._

 **_Hyunjin H:_ ** _I’m at the BART station now, I can meet you guys at city nights_

Seungmin tries not to be disappointed. He wonders what Hyunjin will look like tonight, whether he goes to nightclubs in American Eagle jeans or in black mesh tops. It could go either way— Seungmin finds Hyunjin both casually alluring and mischievously sultry.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _Ok travel safe, I’ll see u there_

And then, in a sudden act of boldness, he types:

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _I’m excited to see u tonight_

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a few minutes. Minho is making out with the bottle of Pink Whitney in the kitchen now, and Seungmin considers stepping in to keep his roommate’s moment of weakness off of someone’s Snapchat story. Changbin is here after all, and he knows that Minho would absolutely die of embarrassment from his behavior the next morning. 

Seungmin pours Minho a shot of tap water and watches in amusement when his face contorts in disgust, then confusion.

“That was so smooth.”

“It was water, smart one. I’m cutting you off,” Seungmin laughs and guides his roommate to the couch. Minho is slumping against the cushions instantly, but still manages to wiggle his hips to the beat of Flo Milli playing from their TV.

“Changbin?” Minho inquires, peeking his eyes open to scan the living room for his date.

“He’s around here somewhere,” Seungmin says easily, “Probably pissing.”

But Minho doesn’t feel satisfied by the suggestion. Instead, he stumbles to his feet and sets off on his own self-appointed quest.

“I’ll be back,” he says determinedly, and Seungmin reaches out to stop him until his phone chirps in his lap. It’s a text from Hyunjin. He allows Minho to drunkenly wander off while he reads the message.

**_Hyunjin H:_ ** _I’m excited too! Can’t wait to paaaartaaay!_

Seungmin smiles to himself and begins typing out his reply. When the neighbors begin pounding on their wall, he knows that it’s time to go.

“I’ll get us an Uber.” Changbin is sitting on the curb outside of the apartment with an arm draped Minho, who had refused to bring a jacket with him to the nightclub. He claimed that it damaged the integrity of his outfit, but Seungmin knew he just wanted to show Changbin how cute he looked in his halter top. “Oh, wait. Lyft is cheaper.”

“By how much?”

Changbin switches back and forth between the apps before turning back to Seungmin, “Like forty-five cents.”

“Dude. I’ll just Venmo you.”

“It’s cool. I already called it!” Changbin gave Seungmin a kind look and pulled Minho a little closer when he felt him shudder. Changbin’s arm, as large and comforting as it was, did a poor job of protecting Minho from the Bay Area chill. “Is he gonna be okay? Like, will they let him in like this?”

“I can literally hear you, and I’m fine!” Minho defends, though his head is still lolling heavily on Changbin’s shoulder. “When does our ride get here? It’s freezing.”

“I can run up and grab you a jacket. They’re still four minutes away,” Changbin squeezes Minho a little tighter and plants a kiss into his hair.

“Don’t do that, you’re spoiling him. Just do some jumping jacks, it’ll get your blood pumping and warm you up.”

“See how he talks to me, Changbin?” Minho half whines and half laughs into Changbin’s shoulder, “So mean for no reason. Seungmin, you should treat me with more respect. I have access to your… toothbrush.”

“You’re such a scary person, you know that?” Seungmin snorts, and Minho succumbs to a fit of snorting laughter.

Nothing funny enough was said to warrant the eruption of giggles, but Minho’s laughter is so infectious and lovely that Seungmin and Changbin find themselves laughing along with him. It’s his birthday. Even if Minho is making fun of him, Seungmin lets it slide.

Once they climb into the Lyft, Changbin has to help a giggly Minho with the buckle of his seatbelt. “He needs to sober up in the next nineteen minutes, or else they won’t let him in,” Changbin says from the backseat where he’s got Minho’s head in his lap.

“They’ll let me in.” Minho speaks all too confidently for someone who can barely hold their head up on their own. Seungmin can barely suppress his amusement. “I do this _all of the time_. They’ll let me in.”

Minho had always possessed an assortment of random talents, like stopping the microwave one second before it went off, and now, apparently, pretending to be sober enough to be let inside of nightclubs.

Admittedly, he played the part extremely well. Changbin kept a steadying hand on the small of Minho’s back as they inched forward in the line outside of City Nights. When their IDs were checked, Minho handed his license over to the bouncer with well-practiced composure. Maybe this truly was something that Minho did _all of the time_ , because the three of them are allowed in easily.

The inside of the club was alive. It was a living thing, with brick as bones and people as its moving guts. Seungmin had never been here before, but something about it felt familiar. It was a sex-having, wall-melting kind of place. He had to unstick the soles of his shoes from the floor with each step he took deeper into the beast’s belly.

“Come with me to go dance!” Minho insisted.

Seungmin thought that dancing with Minho was always enjoyable, even with all of his insecurities. Minho was always able to choreograph something for them on the spot, something easy and fun. Minho was born with rhythm.

**_Hyunjin H:_ ** _I’m in the line outside. Where should I meet you guys?_

“I’ll be right back!” Seungmin shouted over the music, though Minho and Changbin were too busy having sex with their mouths to hear him.

Navigating his way off of the dancefloor was like fighting against the beat of a pulse. He kept being sucked in deeper.

The inside of the club was alight with a sexual energy that made him overheat. Loitering by the entrance like this, Seungmin was able to cool off a little. The outside air felt so nice on his sweaty skin.

Soon enough, Hyunjin became visible. He was shuffling forward slowly, flashing his ID to security, and stood there amongst the other party goers like a cell being pumped through a bloodstream. The heart of the club was beating fiercely, drawing more people in for the night.

“You made it out of Berkeley!”

Hyunjin spun around, and his entire face brightened once he recognized Seungmin.

“Oh my god, hey! I texted you!” Hyunjin pulled him into an unexpected hug, and Seungmin tried not to melt into it. “You look so cute! Where’s everyone?”

Seungmin points to the assemblage of people writhing against each other beneath the neon flashing lights, “Dancing. Do you wanna go?”

Hyunjin smiles excitedly, “Fuck yes.”

Everyone else around them is stumbling from side to side to _Red Nose_ , like buoys bobbing up and down in an ocean of tangled limbs. There’s no real dancing, just tiny clusters of friends swaying to the beat in their own private bubbles. 

But Hyunjin actually _dances_. He throws his arms up and down and shakes his hair loose. He claps his hands and bends his back like it’s elastic. Hyunjin just has this way of commanding attention wherever he goes, and Seungmin is completely charmed.

“You should have seen Minho earlier.” The music is all loud bass, so loud that the dance floor is vibrating. The pulse is everywhere now: its throbbing in the air around them, its throbbing in the floor beneath them, its throbbing in the organs inside of them. “He brought a guy that he’s interested in, they’re around here somewhere, and just— you remember yiking, right?”

“Shut up. Do _not_ tell me what I think you’re gonna tell me,” Hyunjin gasped, his eyes going comically wide.

Seungmin nodded, “It was like high school homecoming all over again.”

Seungmin was never one to enjoy being at the center of attention, but right now he wouldn’t want to be anywhere besides the _right here_ and the _right now_. The energy of the universe oscillates around them, bouncing back and forth between heavenly and hellish, and Hyunjin is at the center of the microcosm.

There’s an important moment where their eyes meet, there’s a flicker of energy, and suddenly Seungmin feels as though they’re connected.

Hyunjin must feel it too, because he presses his chest to Seungmin’s and whispers into his ear, “Do you like guys?”

And Hyunjin is just such an irresistible force of nature that Seungmin can do nothing but tell him the truth.

“I like _you_.”

Hyunjin’s tinkle of laughter is drowned out by the bass shaking the room, but Seungmin doesn’t miss how his smile lights up his entire face. The DJ’s remix of _Planez_ bleeds into the beginning beats of _Yeah, I Said It,_ and there’s a shift in energy that compels Hyunjin to pull their bodies together completely. They’re so close now, and Seungmin’s started to reflexively follow along with Hyunjin’s movements. They’re swaying and leaning, and their mouths are so close that he can taste the cinnamon flavored gum on Hyunjin’s breath.

“Hyunjin.” Seungmin is totally enchanted. “Are we about to kiss?”

Hyunjin sighs happily against his mouth, “Mm-hm.”

Hyunjin’s hands aren’t as soft as they look, but Seungmin still loves the way they feel when they cup his cheeks. It’s difficult to find a rhythm when they’re both rocking off-beat to the music, so Seungmin’s hands grip at Hyunjin’s waist to still their movement.

Now, Seungmin can focus on kissing back properly. Hyunjin kisses like he’s used to getting what he wants. It’s vicious and a little greedy, and Seungmin is scared to know what will happen if he doesn’t immediately satisfy. So he indulges him. He spoils him by submitting to his demands and sticking the wad of cinnamon gum to his molars when Hyunjin’s tongue pushes it into his mouth. Seungmin invites it all so eagerly. Hyunjin doesn’t even have to knock— he just marches beyond the threshold and lets himself inside of Seungmin’s universe.

Once they retreat from the kiss, Seungmin chews on Hyunjin’s flavorless gum and grins. “Tastes like Christmas.”

Hyunjin giggles and starts to rock the music again, but Seungmin still keeps a firm hold on his hips. “You’re cute.” 

And then they’re kissing again.

It’s easier this time, now that they’re both drunk off of each other. Hyunjin’s lips keep stretching into tiny smiles while he presses them against Seungmin’s, and Seungmin’s hands begin their descent down the jutted curves of Hyunjin’s hips on the journey to his ass. Once they’ve arrived at their destination, Seungmin squeezes. Hard.

Hyunjin flinches immediately, his hips jerk forwards and come crashing into Seungmin’s. It throws them off balance for a short second, but once he regains his footing, Seungmin laughs into Hyunjin’s ear. He thinks that the surprise reaction was cute, but then he sees how nervous Hyunjin looks.

“ _Oh_ ,” Hyunjin gasps, like he’s surprised by his own reflex, “I’m sorry… but it’s not like that. Not right now.”

Seungmin pulls his hands back quickly. “Oh… _oh_ , Hyunjin—”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin looks embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay! I should be saying sorry, I should have asked.” Seungmin tries to snuff out some of the awkwardness with an apologetic smile, and Hyunjin seems to appreciate the attempt. But even still, the uncomfortable tension doesn’t entirely dissipate. “It’s okay! You’re okay. For doing that.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Now it’s Hyunjin’s turn to quell their mutual apprehension with a sorry smile. He’s a bit more successful than Seungmin was, but then again, Hyunjin’s smiles seem to remedy _everything_. “I still think you’re cute,” Hyunjin admits shyly, and then the two of them find themselves laughing comfortably with each other. They go back to their silly shuffle dancing, though this time with a bit more space between them. Seungmin could pretend that they were back at square one, if it wasn’t for Hyunjin’s gum still sticking to his teeth. 

Seungmin didn’t know exactly how long he had been dancing. Hyunjin just had this effect that made everything tangible suddenly intangible. It was too easy to lose track of time. But once Seungmin crash landed back into reality, it dawned on him that he hadn’t seen his roommate in a while. A long while.

“I should probably go see where Minho is. When we left the apartment, he was smashed.”

Hyunjin seems to understand and nods, “Let me come with! I haven’t even told him happy birthday tonight!”

And when has Seungmin ever been able to refuse Hyunjin of something he asks for?

The floors near the restrooms are significantly more sticky than the dance floor. With the music becoming muted the further they stray from the hub of dancing, the more clearly Seungmin can hear Hyunjin’s chelsea boots sticking and unsticking to the vinyl flooring.

“Minho? Are you in here?” Seungmin’s voice echoes off the damp walls of the men’s bathroom. His call is met with no response. 

Seungmin is just about to bring Hyunjin along to search elsewhere when he sees it: two pairs of shoes peeking from beneath one of the stalls. One pair is recognizable: they’re the all-white (turned all-gray) Air Force 1’s that Minho wears almost every day. The other is a pair of completely unfamiliar Lacostes. From what Seungmin could remember, Changbin had been wearing Converse that night.

“Minho?” Seungmin tries again, stepping closer. Hyunjin is trailing from close behind. “It’s Seungmin. Are you okay?”

The feet on the other side of the locked stall remain firmly in place, unmoving. There’s still no reply. It isn’t until Hyunjin’s fist is banging against the door that a quiet voice, sounding a lot like Minho’s, finally speaks.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the voice rasps, and then it’s apologizing in a hushed tone. “ _I’m sorry… I couldn’t stay quiet, I’m sorry_.”

“Who’s in there with you Minho?”

“ _Fuck, again_ ,” Minho repeats, his voice higher this time, “ _Do that again_.”

Hyunjin loses either his patience or his nerve, because he lifts a foot from the slippery tile floor and sends it hurling in a kick towards the door. The stall just jostles violently at first, but it succumbs under Hyunjin’s force when he kicks it a second time. Inside they find Chris, from Business Analytics, who has Minho pinned to the toilet. Minho is red-faced and shaking from overexertion, but the grip he has on the sleeve of Chris’ hoodie is tight. Trusting, even. Like he’s afraid of letting go.

Seungmin’s words get lost somewhere in the middle of his throat.

“Holy shit.”

“You’re the guy?” Hyunjin cuts in, and he isn’t disguising his disgust very well. He turns to Seungmin, “ _Chris_ is the guy he’s into?”

“No. He’s not.”

“Seungmin. Seungmin, wait.” Minho’s voice is fluttering. He tries to stand up, but his legs end up jellifying beneath him. He stumbles forward and collapses into Hyunjin, who catches his weight easily. “Don’t misunderstand. I want it.”

“No, you don’t. You’re drunk.” Seungmin says firmly. “Where’s Changbin?”

“ _Nooo_. Seungmin, please.” Hyunjin is at the sink with Minho, lifting handfuls of water to his mouth to drink. Minho slurps it up and breathes heavily through his nose once he’s had enough. “I seriously want it… I was almost there…”

Chris is hunched forward, like he still has Minho’s body stuck beneath him. He doesn’t say a word, instead allowing the ugly twist of his facial features to speak for him. Chris is pissed off, and there’s something ominously threatening about his disposition. He looks like an animal who's had his meal stolen away. Desperate. Rabid. Starved.

“We’re gonna head home now, okay Minho?” Hyunjin wipes the water droplets dripping down Minho’s chin and begins leading him out of the restroom.

Minho, too disoriented to interject, nods into Hyunjin’s shoulder and murmurs, “ _Okayyy_.”

The air is humid and wet, dripping with suspense. Chris has made his way out of the stall now, and he’s baptizing himself at the sink bowl with tap water. Seungmin can’t tell if he’s drunk or not, not that it matters. He needs to go. Minho needs him.

“You should get home too, Chris.” Seungmin suggests before following Hyunjin and Minho out of the bathroom.

… 

Waking up in Hyunjin’s apartment is surreal. It’s unfamiliar, but comforting. Seungmin can tell that he tried to make his space as homey as possible. There’s a floral tapestry hung on the wall and some decorative books staged in the middle of the coffee table. The entire living room smells like French vanilla.

Seungmin checks his phone and sees that it’s 6:18AM. His battery is at 3%.

There’s quite a few direct messages sent to him on Instagram from last night.

**_bin_diesel:_ ** _Hi, it’s Changbin. I lost you guys, where’d u go?_

 **_bin_diesel:_ ** _Where are u?_

 **_bin_diesel:_ ** _I can’t find Minho, are you with him??_

 **_bin_diesel:_ ** _Did u guys leave? :(_

 **_bin_diesel:_ ** _Tell Minho to call me back or text me please_

 **_bin_diesel:_ ** _I’m going home_

Seungmin feels terrible. Changbin must have been panicking. 

Seungmin feels disappointed in himself. He should have kept Minho closer.

“Hey,” comes Hyunjin’s whispery voice from the doorway. He’s got on an SFU hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts. It’s a pleasant change of pace from the standard business casual he wears on the three days of the week Seungmin sees him. Today, Hyunjin looks cute and cozy. It feels so intimate. 

Seungmin wants to kiss him. That’s something they can do now.

“Good morning,” Seungmin whispers back, “You’re up early.”

“I wanted to check on Minho, make sure he didn’t puke in his sleep.”

Seungmin looks over at his roommate. They had both crashed in the bedroom after Hyunjin insisted that he wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch. Minho’s comfort was a priority, and Seungmin didn’t want to leave him alone. Alcohol poisoning became a concern of theirs when, in the Uber ride to Hyunjin’s apartment, Minho began sweating and trembling uncontrollably. He’s still lying in the position Hyunjin had put him in last night, on his side with his arm dangling off the edge of the bed. There’s a small waste bin positioned on the carpet, and thankfully it’s empty.

“He looks like he’s okay,” Seungmin sighs in relief, “Empty trash can.”

“Yeah. Empty trash can,” Hyunjin echoes from across the room.

The silence that settles between them isn’t uncomfortable, per se. It’s still so early. Mornings are meant to be quiet. Hyunjin eventually settles himself on the bottom corner of the bed, and Seungmin moves his feet to the side to allow him more sitting space.

“I know it’s really early, but I could get us some Postmates?” Seungmin whispers, though he isn’t exactly sure why. Maybe it's because he's afraid to disturb the nice quietness.

“I was actually thinking that maybe we could go out,” Hyunjin suggests, keeping his gaze fixed on the comforter and tracing its gingham pattern with his finger. “I wanted to take you out for breakfast, so we could talk about last night. And we can bring something back for Minho, too. I know a really good spot on Sutter. Let me treat you?”

The eatery Hyunjin takes him to later that morning is boutiquey. The table they’re seated at has rattan armchairs and the menu they’re handed is printed on a sheet of recycled paper. It seems like a place Hyunjin would frequent. Seungmin is less familiar with the menu, so he settles on something safe. He orders himself a Belgian waffle, and Hyunjin decides on the goat cheese scramble.

“I get it every time I come here,” he says once their orders have been sent to the kitchen, “This place has the _best_ brunch.”

They’re about halfway through their meal, just having finished gossiping about the professor who will be teaching their Business Communications course next semester, when Hyunjin sets his cutlery down on his plate.

“So, can we talk about last night?”

Seungmin is drowning the second half of his waffle in buttery syrup when he looks up at Hyunjin. “About Chris?”

“About us.”

Seungmin nods his head and pretends like his insecurities aren’t starting to crawl up his back.

“Okay,” Hyunjin inhales deeply, like he’s preparing himself for their conversation. There’s a beat of silence before he continues.

“I meant everything that I said,” he begins, “I think you’re really cute, Seungmin. And I had such a good time with you last night, seriously. We get along really well, and I know you’re a great guy. You— I— …wow, Seungmin. I’m just… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m not ready for this. A relationship. Or whatever it is that this path is leading us towards.” Hyunjin tucks a piece of hair behind his ear nervously. “I have so much I need to be focusing on right now, with school and interning. Landing this internship is like a dream come true for me. It’s paid. I want to put everything I have into working hard and building connections. Salesforce is a big deal.”

So this breakfast was Hyunjin’s idea of a severance package.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin. I understand. I get the message.” Seungmin tries not to sound heartbroken, no matter how defeated he feels. “I’m really happy for you.”

“I just don’t want you to be upset with yourself or with me. I really wish I could make this work, but I… can’t. Not right now.”

Seungmin tells him that it’s okay. Hyunjin pays for their meal, as promised, and they hug it out. Being held by Hyunjin like this is so heartwarming, but Seungmin doesn’t let himself relish in it like he otherwise would have. Hyunjin helps him with bringing Minho back home to their shared apartment later that day.

Then, Seungmin remembers his clerical training. He remembers his mission, and he remembers that he surrendered himself to the church.

Maybe this is for the best.

Even if he isn’t okay now, he knows he will be.

… 

The week following Minho’s birthday drags on slowly. 

Seungmin is there while the guilt eats away at Minho for what had happened on his birthday.

“Please don’t tell Changbin,” he had begged the moment after waking up in Hyunjin’s apartment.

Seungmin, curiously, had asked, “Are you guys…?”

“No.” Minho’s hair fell into his face when he shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m really into him, and I like what we have going for us. He’s really sweet.”

Seungmin didn’t want to insert himself into business that wasn’t his, but he still worried that Minho was making the wrong call. Keeping the secret from Changbin came at the expense of Minho’s well-being. Seungmin wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand to wake up in the middle of the night to his roommate crying quietly in bed. The deep-seeded regret was destroying him.

Seungmin’s nightmares make a comeback as well. At first they star faceless men and women, just as they always have. Just an orgy of nobodies all having sex with him in every possible way. But eventually, the demons in his nightmares morph into someone familiar.

It’s Chris, oddly enough. 

He begins to make regular appearances in Seungmin’s dreamworld, where he licks and sucks and fucks him. Seungmin wakes up feeling disgusted every time, even tries to pray them away, but he’s still powerless to stop them.

Chris ends up fucking him every single night for three consecutive days.

Seungmin and Hyunjin are still classmates and project partners, despite everything. Pretending like nothing happened between them over the weekend felt bizarre.

“Chris isn’t coming.” 

Hyunjin had scheduled an out-of-class meeting for their project group to review some notes from their mock presentation. They’ll be graded on their work the next time they have class, and Hyunjin is adamant about receiving perfect marks.

So it comes to no one’s surprise that Chris’ absence propels Hyunjin into a fit.

“What do you mean he’s not coming? We all agreed to a time and place. What is he? Sick? He didn’t even text me!”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Seungmin laughs to lighten the mood, but Hyunjin is still stabbing his salad with his fork.

Felix smiles nervously and starts to pick at the blemishes on his jaw, “He didn’t say why. He just told me to tell you.”

“He told you just now?”

“Yeah, just now… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. He made a commitment. I hate it when people break commitments.” Hyunjin is muttering mostly to himself, but he acknowledges Seungmin and Felix’s presence again after letting out a grunt of frustration. “I really appreciate you two being here, so let’s not waste any more time and get to work, okay? Okay!”

Hyunjin was extremely thorough, as always. He made sure that Seungmin took longer pauses before moving on to his next slide ( _“Silence can be used as a rhetorical device”_ ), and that Felix didn’t regurgitate the information on his slides word for word.

“You’re data dumping,” Hyunjin tells him, “When you speak, you have this _je ne sais quoi_ that makes you really pleasant to listen to. You have a special quality in your voice. It would be great if you could tap into that a little more and not get so caught up in presenting unimportant information. All of the main points are on the slide, so don’t go off on a tangent.”

Felix scribbles everything down in his spiral notebook and then asks, “Thank you. And what about for Chris?”

“If he really wanted his notes, then he would have shown up.” Hyunjin says simply. “Make sure he knows that I’ll be happy to give him his feedback as soon as he reaches out to me in person, since apparently he’s so afraid of texting me.”

“But I really think that—”

“I’m not here to be best friends with Chris, I’m here to get my degree. I need to make a run to the print center, so I’ll be going now. I hope you guys understand.” Hyunjin snaps the plastic lid back onto the top of his salad container and slings his laptop bag across his shoulder before taking off. “Good work today!”

Seungmin and Felix deflate into their chairs once the meeting is adjourned. With Hyunjin gone, the two of them let out a sigh in unison and feel the tension evaporate. “Hyunjin is so…” Felix pauses for a moment while he tries to find the right word, “intense. I’m always holding my breath around him. I seriously thought he was gonna flip the table when I told him Chris was no-showing.”

“Oh, he was totally considering it,” Seungmin jokes, “But he means well. He just takes school really seriously, which is admirable, I guess.”

“I know, but still.” Felix is drawing tiny scribbles in the margin of his notebook while he speaks, “I’m so afraid to tell Chris.”

“I’ll text him,” Seungmin offers, “I don’t mind, and I can tell you hate being the middleman.”

“I really do!” Felix says with an exaggerated whine that amuses Seungmin to no end. “I should get both of them to reimburse me for my Curology subscription. Don’t they know that stress makes you break out? My cortisol levels have been through the roof for the past week and a half! But are you sure though? About texting him? I don’t want to pin anything on you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure! You go home and relax, please.” Seungmin shuts Felix’s laptop for him and helps him pack up his notetaking materials. “You’ll nail your part of the presentation, I promise. So don’t stress too much for the next 48 hours, okay? I’ll see you in class.”

“Thank you so much, don’t let me forget that I owe you Boba Guys for this!” Felix smiles sweetly and gives Seungmin a love tap before leaving. “See you Friday!”

Seungmin waits a few minutes after Felix’s departure to type out his text message to Chris. He hadn’t seen him since their confrontation in the bathroom at City Nights, and Seungmin is hoping that things don't become weird between them.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _Are u okay? Our meeting is finished_

 **_Seungmin K:_ ** _Hyunjin is pissed_

They aren’t the most eloquently worded messages, but they do their job.

Chris replies not thirty seconds later.

**_Christopher B:_ ** _lol I know, he blew up my phone >__> im good tho thx _

Seungmin figures that this is the reason why Hyunjin had been furiously tapping away on his phone mid-meeting. Chris didn’t even have to be physically present to suffer Hyunjin’s valedictorian wrath.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _I wanted to check up on u and drop off some material_

 **_Seungmin K:_ ** _is that ok with you?_

 **_Christopher B:_ ** _yeah come over!_

 **_Christopher B:_ ** _sharing my location rn_

And as promised, Seungmin receives an attachment with Chris’ address. The apartment is only a seven minute ride away if he can manage to catch the next southbound bus.

He isn’t sure why he’s so excited. Seungmin figures he doesn't necessarily _need_ a reason why.

**_Seungmin K:_ ** _on my way to u!_

 **_Christopher B:_ ** _yesss_

… 

Seungmin arrives sooner than expected, but Chris is already standing by the curb waiting for him.

“Hey!” he calls out to get his attention. “We missed you today. Is everything alright?”

Chris greets him with a friendly wave and shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his sweatpants as Seungmin approaches. “Everything’s fine. I just wasn’t in the mood to hear Hyunjin tell me how great he is and how terrible I am.”

“Oh.” Seungmin freezes. “Really?”

“I’m kidding! I just wasn’t feeling too good, but two hours and 600mg of Tylenol later, I feel on top of the world.”

Seungmin isn’t used to Chris’ brand of humor, but he laughs anyway. “I’m glad you’re feeling better!”

“Yeah, man. By the way, do you wanna head up?” Chris gestures to his complex, “I got a Keurig and Swiss Miss K-Cups.”

Seungmin doesn’t need much more convincing.

The interior of Chris’ apartment is just like Chris: one-dimensional. But at least the couch is comfy and the hot chocolate tastes fine.

“How is your friend by the way?” Chris says as he sits cross-legged beside Seungmin on the couch. Their knees are touching, but Seungmin pays it no mind. “Is he doing okay?

“He’s going to be fine.”

Chris frowns into his mug of cocoa. “Going to be?”

Seungmin nods. “He has someone he’s interested in, so everything that happened… it threw him off. But he’s going to be fine.”

“I want to apologize for what I did.” Chris unfolds his legs scoots a bit closer, “He was out of it, I was out of it… I know I should be telling this to him right now, but would you mind letting him know how sorry I am?”

“Of course I can tell him. I know Minho will appreciate it a lot.”

“Minho?”

“That’s the name of my friend. Minho.”

“Well, I’m sorry Minho,” Chris takes a sip from his mug before reclining back against the sofa. “Also, you said you had some material for me? Is it for Business Analytics?”

“Oh, right! That’s one of the main reasons why I dropped by in the first place!” Seungmin reached between his legs to unzip the messenger bag he had resting by his feet. He pulls out his notebook and tears out a page of notes before handing it over to Chris. “I wrote some feedback notes of my own. Hyunjin said he wasn’t going to give you your official notes until you meet with him in person, so I thought this might be helpful in the meantime.”

“He really said that, huh?” Chris rolls his eyes, “He’s such a petty bitch. How do you hang out with someone pretentious like that?”

“He isn’t pretentious, he’s just goal-oriented.”

“I just don’t like him. And I’m sure the feeling’s mutual on his end.”

Seungmin brings his face into a neutral expression and shrugs. 

“I see the way you look at him, like you admire him,” Chris continues. “It bothers me, if I’m being honest.”

“Bothers you?” Seungmin can’t even attempt to hide his surprise. “Why?”

“He’s a user. He uses people,” Chan explains. “It bothers me to see you getting used, and Felix getting used.”

“So this is about the project?”

Chris sighs into his drink and shakes his head. “Not entirely.”

Seungmin doesn’t understand, and his confusion must have shown on his face because Chris speaks up again. “Would you believe me if I told you I think you’re really cute?”

“...You what?”

“Would you believe me?” Chris repeats, “if I told you I’ve had a crush on you all semester?”

Seungmin doesn’t know where to go from here. He’s never had to navigate a situation like this before, he’s never been confessed to.

“You… really?”

“Really.” Chris confirms, “And if you don’t tell me to stop now, I’m gonna kiss you.” Their legs have been touching this entire time, but only now does it feel like something special. 

“Seungmin,” he whispers, inching closer, “Are you gonna stop me?”

He isn’t sure how he ends up in Chris’ lap, but the way he’s being held and revered like something important makes Seungmin feel good.

He decides not to stop him.

Kissing Chris is a lot different from kissing Hyunjin. There’s no push and pull, or any demand to be met. Instead, it’s slow and soft and warm. It isn’t electrifying like Seungmin expects it to be, but it does make him feel nice and fuzzy on the inside. 

Chris tastes like artificial chocolate, though Seungmin is sure he does too.

“Did you like it?” Just because Chris pulls away doesn’t mean he’s stopped kissing him. His lips are all over Seungmin’s face, pecking the tip of his nose and nibbling at his cheeks and kissing the space between his eyebrows.

Seungmin isn’t sure how he feels about Chris, but he knows how he feels about kissing him. “Yeah.”

“Do you wanna do it again?”

Chris is already pulling him forward again, so he nods. “ _Yeah_.”

This kiss is much more familiar. It’s burning hot, and Seungmin feels like he’s being commanded through the motions. It’s a lot like Hyunjin’s. Chris just takes and takes. Even when Seungmin can’t give any more, he continues taking.

If Hyunjin is a user, then Chris is a taker.

“Can we do it again?” Chris moans into his open mouth, “Can we do more?”

Seungmin swallows down Chris’ desperate noises and clings even tighter. “We can do more.”

If Chris is a taker, then Seungmin is a giver.

Grinding was a new experience. As arbitrary as the motion might have seemed at first, Seungmin had soon lost himself in the delicious pressure against his crotch. Chris’ hands were on his hips, guiding him, and Chris’ lips were working some magic on his jawline.

“Wow…” Seungmin groans out into the open, “It’s _good_.”

“Just good?” Chris’ hands creep up from his hips to his waist, and he squeezes the flesh there experimentally.

Seungmin shakes his head and rolls his hips in smaller, tighter circles. “ _Crazy good_.”

Chris meets Seungmin’s little thrusts halfway, and soon the two of them are properly fucking against each other. The dry rub of his jeans stings a little, but Seungmin ignores it in favor of thrusting his hips with an increasing fervor. When Chris pushes him onto his back, the back of his head resting uncomfortably on the couch armrest, he gets kissed again. Seungmin feels a part of his soul leave his body through his mouth and down Chris’ throat.

Chris must like the taste of it, because he starts grinding down harder. “Seungmin,” he grunts, breathing heavily into their kisses. “Let’s keep going.”

“I can’t,” Seungmin’s voice comes out sounding a lot smaller than he expected. “I’m saving myself, and doing more— no… no, I can’t.”

“How come? Are you still pretending to be something you’re not?”

Chris’ words have an edge to them that slice through Seungmin’s skin. They leave him bleeding, wounded and confused, and the pink-tinted lenses he’s been seeing Chris through begin to crack.

“I know you’ve been dreaming about me, you filthy freak,” Chris continues. The rhythm of his hips stays consistent, and Seungmin’s eyelids flutter involuntarily when he gets drunk off of the friction. “You don’t have to pretend to be innocent anymore. I know everything.” 

“Chris—”

“More?”

“How did you know?” Seungmin is scared. Getting caught up in Chris’ entanglement was frighteningly easy, but he isn’t giving in to the pleasure anymore. Both mugs of hot chocolate have gone cold, but Chris’ apartment feels like it’s being licked with hellfire.

“You’re surprised?”

“ _How did you know that?_ ” Seungmin repeats, this time with much more conviction.

“Just be honest with yourself, Seungmin.” Chris looms over him, caging him in like a zoo creature. Chris’ skin is sweaty and pallid, like shining white oil paint. There’s something very wrong with his eyes. “You’re meant for this.”

Seungmin’s first instinct is to run. 

The angle is awkward, but his fist still connects with the side of Chris’ skull. The blow, as unimpressive as it was, disrupts Chris’ balance and gives Seungmin enough leeway to slip from beneath him.

The door. 

He needs to get to the door.

“That fucking hurt, you bitch!”

Seungmin doesn’t turn around to look at Chris. He doesn’t turn around when he hears the heavy footsteps behind him trailing closer, and closer, and closer. All he focuses on is the front door. The knob. The padlock. It’s so close.

But then something is dragging him away. Seungmin is caught by the collar of his shirt, and it chokes him as he’s pulled back into the den.

“You’re _staying,_ Seungmin.” Chris’ voice growls from above. His words sound distorted and warbled. “I told you, you’re meant for this.”

“Stop!” Seungmin gurgles, his legs kicking furiously. “I can’t breathe!”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Chris shushes him and pulls at his collar harder, making Seungmin gurgle. “It’s quiet hours.”

Seungmin’s mouth gapes open and then closes, and his eyes are open so wide that they feel like they’re bulging out of their sockets. He looks like one of those bug-eyed goldfish, gasping for breath.

“You look hot when you’re dying.” Chris grins and tugs the collar harder. Seungmin’s hands fly to his throat, clawing frantically at the tightened neck of his shirt and writhing jerkily. Chris just laughs in the face of his distress and flicks at his cheek with his fingernail. 

The blood is leaving the capillaries in his face and retreating to the rest of the organs, his body’s last ditch biological effort to keep him alive. Seungmin’s face quickly pales from red to gray-blue.

Chris laughs, “Blue is your color.”

Then the oxygen comes flooding back into Seungmin’s lungs. He chokes on it at first, surprised, but then begins to take in large gulps of air. He needs to get out of here. Away from Chris, away from this demon. He doesn’t even make a full recovery before he wheezes out the beginnings of a prayer.

“In the name of the Holy Trinity—”

Seungmin is trapped beneath Chris’ towering figure, caged in once again. He can’t fight back, but he can recite his rites.

“—strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin—”

Chris’ foot comes smashing into Seungmin’s the center of Seungmin’s face. There’s a quiet crack, then an explosion of pain. The flow of blood down his chin and neck is thick and warm.

“—I confidently undertake—” 

Seungmin’s nose is broken, and he’s sobbing. He’s delivering the holy word, but it does nothing. Means nothing.

“—and repulse the attacks of you awful demon!”

Chris aims a kick between his legs this time, and Seungmin cries out sharply. Chris nudges at his sore crotch for a moment, and eventually starts caressing Seungmin’s erection with his toes. It draws out a noisy groan from deep within his chest.

“You like that, you little weirdo?” The heel of Chris’ foot is digging into the side of his broken nose now, and Seungmin whines out pathetically. “Reciting your verses while I beat the shit out of you? That’s what gets you off?”

Seungmin says nothing, only shudders. He’s never felt so ashamed.

“Hey Seungmin.” Chris says, “I’m really starting to feel it. Let’s do more, okay?”

Seungmin says nothing, only nods. He’s never felt more defeated.

The feeling of Chris’ body in his dreams can’t even compare to how he feels in real life. Seungmin is still caged in, though this time by a pair of naked thighs. Chris’ body is broad and sinewy, Seungmin can see every pull and tug of his muscles beneath his skin. Chris is riding his dick like sex is what keeps him alive. Seungmin’s pelvis begins to ache from the intensity of his bouncing.

“I knew I had to have you,” Chris stops his movements and starts rolling his hips slowly. He feels Seungmin’s dick twitch inside of him, curses, and then goes back to his merciless pace. “I knew it would be good, but _fuck…_ not _this_ good.”

“...good?” Seungmin shakes, overwhelmed.

“ _Really good._ I fucking love virgins,” Chris moans and takes a second to lean back. He grips Seungmin by his knees, palms cold and slippery, before fucking himself down on Seungmin’s cock again. “You’re gonna get hooked on this feeling, Seungmin. It’s gonna ruin you. You can pretend to be modest and pious, but you’ll always be ruined.”

Seungmin’s hips are stuttering. The pleasure is sinking its talons deep into his body, holding him hostage.

  
The way Chris rides his dick is completely self-pleasing. Now comfortable in his new position, he bounces with a vicious disregard for Seungmin’s own enjoyment. Chris is using him up. The parallel between how he offered himself to be used by God and how he’s being used now draws a choked moan from the back of Seungmin’s throat. It scares him how much he’s turned on by that thought. Each drop of Chris’ hips has him sinking deeper into the recesses of his fucked-out mind, sending his soul merging more and more completely with Chris’ until they amalgamate at the bottom of the trench. Down here, it’s too dark for anyone to see how much Seungmin loves the new sensations. Down here, it’s just Seungmin and Chris indulging each other in the darkness.

  
Maybe he is meant for this.

It’s incredible how Chris’ insides are so velvety soft, but his exterior is so firm. “Seungmin. Seungmin. Seungmin,” Chris chants his name like its a Hail Mary. “The tip of your cock is kissing my insides. I’m gonna fucking _lose it_.” 

Chris’ softness squeezes around him one final time, and Seungmin doesn’t even stand a fighting chance.

Seungmin’s moans come out in sad, broken stutters once he cums. Chris is absolutely thrilled at the feeling of being filled. He fucks himself harder and faster, rougher and sloppier, milking Seungmin of every last drop he has to give. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Chris panted, “Give it to me. I want it. _I want it_.”

And Seungmin surrenders it all.

There’s a ray of evening sunlight shining through the window and casting shadows above them. Seungmin watches the angels dance on the ceiling for a few seconds, and then closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the sun has shifted behind a cluster of trees and the angels have disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you enjoyed the story, or have any feedback, please feel free to leave a comment! They make my day!
> 
> CuriousCat: gyungmi  
> Twitter (NSFW): @filthyracha


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